Retribution is really a stone age concept.

At 19, I basically held the position that if you were intellectually honest and really wanted to get in touch with political reality then you had to smell tear-gas.

The self is not a thing, but a process.

Subjectivity means to catch yourself in the act.

The conscious experience of being a subject arises when a single organism learns to enslave itself.

Whoever loses the capability for inner silence, loses contact to himself and soon won't be able to think clearly any more.

Subjective time flows forward, the phenomenal self is embedded into this flow, an inner history unfolds. That it is why it is not a bubble, but a tunnel: There is movement in time.

Conscious experience as such is an exclusively internal affair: Once all functional properties of your brain are fixed, the character of subjective experience is determined as well.

Consciousness is phenomenologically subjective whenever there is a stable, consciously experienced first-person perspective.

I believe that gut feelings, the sense of balance, and spatial self-perception are so firmly coupled to our biological body that we will never be able to leave it experientially on a permanent basis.

Someone who cannot stop his outer flow of words will soon be unable to communicate with other human beings at all.

I can’t cure anyone. I can’t guarantee they will heal. I can only tell them my story, remind them that they are not alone in their journey and offer a glimmer of hope for healing.

People come into your life and people leave it... you just have to trust that life has a road mapped out for you.

When you act like a teacher, it's usually because you're afraid to be the student.

We fall, but we get up because the ground is no place for a champion.

My husband thinks he's compromising if we have one cook instead of three.

It's time to raise a generation of participants, not another generation of fans.

Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there.

Jokes are grievances.

You get to the ninth inning and your stomach is clear up to here. But it's not because of your job. It is because you want to win so badly.

So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.